


what lurks in ink

by ConsumedbyRain



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Mutual Pining, Neck Kissing, Original Character(s), Pining, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:22:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27696227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsumedbyRain/pseuds/ConsumedbyRain
Summary: Someone out there wants to lick Frankie's freckles.(aka an au i made with some friends and whoops, i took it too far)
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	what lurks in ink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mediocre_martyy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediocre_martyy/gifts).



> this is very self-indulgent and honestly not very well written but enjoy?

“This is for you.”

Frankie almost screeched when a short, first-year, Slytherin suddenly appeared in front of him. She stopped him in the middle of the hall, looking up at his face with huge blue eyes. As she stared up at him he felt slightly threatened, but when he looked closer, her eyes were quivering like she had held back a scream too. Pale fingers emerged from the dark robe that consumed her form and offered him a letter. It was sealed with a lilac wax and there was some kind of flower in the seal’s design. 

He took it from her tentatively. “Thank? You?”

As soon as she appeared she was gone and Frankie wasn’t convinced she had been there at all. If not for the letter in his hand, he would have thought he had imagined the whole interaction. He turned the letter over in his hands before dropping it into his bookbag. If it were that pressing it’d be a howler and besides, lunch was calling his name. 

As the hour went by, his curiosity grew. Why would anyone besides his family send him a letter, and why not by owl? What if it was from one of his professors? He has the highest marks in Ravenclaw so it couldn’t possibly be anything negative. Perhaps it was something concerning his future career, after all, he was a sixth year now and one of the most promising ones too. Every minute that ticked by fueled his anticipation until it felt like the paper was burning a hole into his side. 

Frankie, overfilled with impatience, left the great hall and rushed to the library. He sat down at a table deep in the Transfiguration section, wishing not to be disturbed. For some strange reason, he felt the need to avoid getting caught with this note. Under the light, he inspected the wax seal. The lilac colour was really more a light magenta now that he was looking at it and the flowers in the seal were really quite detailed. They had a long stem and few leaves. It must have cost a fortune to have this seal stamp made. Sticking out of the very top of the stem were three bell-shaped blossoms. Frankie identified them as some kind of delphinium. He almost felt bad for breaking such a beautiful seal but he was dying from curiosity. 

As he unfolded the letter, it took everything in him not to just quickly scan over it. Instead, he decided to read it carefully, in case there was anything important lurking in the ink. 

_I like your freckles a lot. Way too much for it to be normal. I’m honestly considering asking you to wear a glamour charm. They’re so damn distracting and I don’t even know why. But I still find myself staring at them no matter how much sense it doesn’t make. I even started dreaming about them. That’s definitely not normal. But in my dreams, I kiss them. Not just the ones on your face but on your arms and your neck. Sometimes I lick them. I hate those dreams. I hate them because they make me realize how much I want to bring them into reality._

Frankie closed the note immediately, face flushed red and hot to the touch. He fumbled with the paper, not quite able to grasp it, and once it was shoved safely into his bookbag, he covered his face with his hands. 

_Who._

_The._

_Fuck?_

To say he was confused was an understatement. He was more than just confused and even more mortified than that. 

_Someone out there wanted to lick his freckles._

The rest of his day was a blur until his Herbology class with Zoë. She gave him a look as soon as he walked into the greenhouse. 

“What?” He asked her. 

"Don’t ‘what’ me. Just tell me what’s bothering you before it makes you mopey and annoying.”

“I’m gonna choose to ignore that comment.”

“Sure,” She said with a lopsided grin accompanying a lopsided shrug. 

He rolled his eyes at her before answering. “I’ll tell you later.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.“It better be good for making me wait.”

Before Frankie could respond that it was perhaps _too_ good, Professor Stock started explaining the day’s lesson and he’ll be damned if he lets some love letter get in the way of his good grades. He was still distracted though, and they were only taking notes about Gillyweed today. Zoë kept looking at him like he was a dumbass, and even though he was, he didn't appreciate it. Finn looked at him like that enough as it is. 

He felt scatterbrained as he made his way to potions. Finn was there waiting for him and immediately noticed then took advantage of his troubled state. 

“The fuck happened to you?” He asked with a glint in his light-green eyes. 

“I’ll tell you later,” Frankie said for the second time that day. 

Finn didn’t let him touch their _Medicus Ardeat_ potion for the entire class in fear he would completely ruin it. Instead, Frankie was perfectly happy to just watch and tease him. It was really more watching though. Finn’s shiny black hair fell over his face so perfectly and the way his cute moles contrasted against his pale skin was breathtaking.

“Stop trying to make me fuck up. This your grade too,” Finn ordered.

Frankie shook himself out of his stupor. “Eh. My marks can take the hit.”

“Not the point, jackass-- and be quiet. I have to stir this twelve times and you’re already distracting enough as it is.” 

When he was done stirring, Frankie promptly poked him in the side and received a deathly glare. 

“Franklin Richard Everett, I will kill someone you love.”

Frankie stuck his tongue out at Finn and was immediately rewarded with a _Langlock_ jinx. 

“How many times are you gonna pull that before learning your lesson?” Finn snickered at him, knowing full well he couldn’t respond. 

Frankie spent the rest of potions in forced silence, giving Finn dirty looks all the while. And if he got distracted by Finn’s snakebites and how much he wanted to scrape his teeth against them, no one had to know. The jinx finally wore off while they were on their way to the lake to meet Zoë. Frankie sighed in relief at the feeling of being able to move his tongue again. 

“I’m getting real sick of that jinx,” Frankie said. 

“Then stop sticking your tongue in my face,” Finn responded easily. He’d said it word for word to the strawberry-blond about ten times now. 

Once they were settled next to the lake, Frankie spilt the whole story. He didn’t show them the letter, no matter how much Zoë begged to see it. It felt wrong to expose someone’s heart like that-- so freely and without any thought. 

“So what, you’ve got an admirer. Big deal,” Finn said looking into the water.

“Are you going to try and find out who it is?” Zoë asked him with her big, hopeful, hazel eyes. 

And fuck-- Frankie hadn’t thought about that. Maybe it was because he was so dense when it came to stuff like this. He didn’t really want to know who it was at all. He kind of wished they’d never try to give him a letter again. Maybe it was because he’d never really received something like this before. Sure, a couple of girls liked him but none of them had ever tried to confess or anything. He had always found out through gossip and rumours which made him think he was somewhat unattainable in their minds.

Compared to Finnegan Freesia anyway. 

Finn was perhaps the most attainable boy in their whole year if you were a girl. He’d never actually dated anyone and that led to quite a few broken hearts. Finn was fully willing to mess around with someone but when it came to romance and vulnerability he couldn’t stomach it. 

And maybe that’s what it all boiled down to. That at the end of the day, when he finally found out who had sent him this note, it was not going to be from Finn. Not from the one person Frankie wanted it to be from. Not from his best friend who he had had to deny feelings for a million times over. Not from the Slytherin quidditch captain who he nearly drooled over every time he stopped a quaffle right in its path. Perhaps that’s what it _really_ was-- where all his own unwillingness to date and apprehension of this note sprouted from. He looked over at Finn who was now spread on the grass with his eyes closed.

But maybe these notes could help him forget about messy black hair and smooth pale skin.

And that is the only reason, the sole reason, he allows Zoë to inspect the _outside_ of the letter to find out who it’s from. 

“Well, who gave it to you?” She said, pushing back her bushy ombré hair.

“Some Slytherin first year. I didn’t recognize her.”

“So the sender is likely a Slytherin then.”

“Well, I’ve been encouraging the first years to branch out more, so really it could be from anywhere,” Finn piped in. “What’d she look like?”

“Short, huge blue eyes, long blonde hair. Almost like she was in a constant state of almost crying.”

“Blake? She’s not a first year, she’s a fifth. And anyway, she hangs out with the Gryffindors. They keep her around cause she keeps them out of trouble.” 

Frankie groaned and fell unto his back, throwing his forearm over his eyes. 

“Okay, then the seal. That’s obviously the main clue,” Zoë persisted.

“It's just purple with a delphinium on it,” Frankie responded, eyes still shut.

Zoë’s face screwed up as she looked at the design. “I thought it was a bleeding heart flower.” 

“Oh, give it here,” Finn said, offering her his hand.

She snorted and handed it over. Finn looked at it impassively.

“It looks like a snowdrop to me.”

“You guys are so unhelpful,” Frankie complained. 

“Well, what did you expect? It’s an anonymous love letter,” Finn pointed out.

“Maybe if you let us _read_ it--”

“It's far too personal Zoë. I’d feel bad.”

She huffed but didn’t say anything more. 

“Maybe they’ll send another note with clues,” She said hopefully. 

\--

He did not, in fact, get any clues on who this person was with the next note. It came two weeks after the first, and Frankie had almost forgotten the original letter had existed at all. Blake, once again, appeared in front of him and disappeared without a trace. He hoped she was giving those Gryffindors hell too. 

Just like the first time, Frankie settled down at the table furthest into the Transfiguration section and read

_I love how you look when you blush. Merlin, it’s cute. Your entire face along with your ears and neck practically glow red. It’s so hilarious and so endearing and so so cute and I wish I could kiss you every time you blush like that. I almost did once. I had to catch myself before I made that mistake. I’ve had to catch myself on so fucking much with you. I might give myself away if I elaborate too much so I won’t. Even now I have to keep myself in check. I hope you don’t ever find out who I am. I don’t even really know why I’m writing these._

_But Merlin, I love it when you blush._

Frankie scowled at the piece of paper, feeling the temperature of his face and neck start to rise despite him trying to keep it down in defiance. 

He didn’t like how reading these made his heart flutter and he especially didn’t like how desperately he wanted this writer to be Finnegan. 

Damn that fucking beanpole. 

He felt bad for going against their wishes, but he needed to find out who the hell was writing these. 

He’d start at the source. 

\--

Tracking down Blake was far more difficult than Frankie expected it to be. Sure, _maybe_ he could have asked Finn to help him and _maybe_ it would’ve made things about ten times easier, but Frankie was stubborn, okay? Maybe less interaction with Finn would mean fewer feelings anyway.

Frankie found Blake in the Owlery when he finally managed to catch her. She was stroking a cute little tawny owl when he called out to her. Glossy eyes looked over to him and he felt like he had just stepped on a bumblebee. Her look was so shattering and powerful. It made you feel like you’d just committed a crime you really didn’t want to. He stumbled back a little once under the full force of her gaze.

This girl was going places.

“Um, hi?”

“What?” She asked in a ghostly voice. It wasn’t weak or wavering but very quiet. 

“I was going to ask you about the love letters.”

Blake turned away from him and he almost sighed in relief. Her eyes now bore into the owl she was petting who was flourishing under the attention. “I can’t tell you who wrote them,” she responded quickly. The way she had said it so fluidly made it seem like she’d rehearsed the phrase. Whoever they were from must have made her promise not to reveal their identity. 

“Maybe just a clue then?” Frankie suggested, grasping for any shred of information at all.

She looked to give this a bit of thought. Then she leaned down so her face was level with the owl’s and whispered something to him. It was almost as if she was asking the owl to decide for her. When she pulled back and looked into the owl’s eyes again he cooed at her happily and a watery smile appeared in her features. 

“What sort of clue?” She asked, turning to face him again.

He perked up immediately at that. “How about what year they're in?”

She leaned down to consult her owl friend again and nodded at his hoot. She turned to face Frankie again before revealing, “Sixth.”

_So they’re in my year then._

Frankie gave her a huge smile and thanked her before leaving. He’ll be damned if he can’t solve this mystery.

Walking through the hallways was now a game of process of elimination. Every sixth year he saw was factored into his growing lists of possible, impossible, and improbable. It soon started getting overwhelming. There were only thirty-four people in his year but between the rumours, unknown sexualities, and loyalties amongst friends, Frankie had no idea how to actually conclude who his writer was. Webs of lies and drama were so tangled there was no way to simply deduce who this person was from assumptions. By the end of the day, there was only one person in their thirty-four person grade that was on his impossible list.

Finnegan Freesia. 

He was very obviously straight and had made it very clear to Frankie so it was plainly impossible. Everyone else was a suspect. He had no idea who was what besides Finnegan-- hell he could be someones gay awakening for all he knew. But again, he had very little facts and all too many possibilities. 

“Have you even tried to identify the handwriting?” Zoë asked him once by the lake.

Frankie rolled his eyes at her. “Of course, Zoë. I’m not an idiot.”

“You look the part,” Finn commented with a snicker. 

Frankie flicked him on the forehead.

“ _No one_ in our year has similar handwriting?” She kept pushing.

“I haven’t been able to see _everyone’s--_ ”

“So give me one of the letters and I’ll help you look!” 

He gave her a flat look. “Zo, we talked about this.”

She pouted at him but didn’t mention it again. 

\--

Like clockwork, another letter appeared two weeks later. 

Frankie didn’t scare at seeing Blake this time. Just sighed when she suddenly appeared all spectre-like and held out his hand expectantly. She looked at him with her large eyes which now had a more curious tone to them. The note was placed in his hand but as he turned to walk away she stopped him.

“Why do you look so upset?” She asked him.

 _And wasn’t_ that _ironic?_

He thought carefully before answering, “These letters make me sad.”

“But why?” She pushed on, “They’re love letters.”

 _So she knows that they are_ , Frankie thought. “Yes, but they make me confused and all… wishy-washy.”

Blake didn’t bother to respond with words but her eyes said plenty. After a few moments of staring, her wrists disappeared back into his cloak and she was gone again. Frankie got the strange feeling that she was both pitying him and silently calling him an idiot. Why he had no idea. Blake seemed to know more about the sender than she was letting on and Frankie made the mental note to pester her more about who it was. 

He didn’t even wait to open this one, just unceremoniously ripped it open right there in the hallway.

It was a bad decision. 

_Merlin, if you don’t stop making me feel like this, I might have to punch you. Every time I see you, my heart tries to kill itself, I swear. You’re so goddamn cute it’s annoying and I’m getting to the point where I don’t even care about being anonymous anymore because fuck. You._

Frankie was blushing furiously. Somehow, this note had affected him the most out of all of them. He supposed it was because this one had so much raw emotion. It really expressed just how much this person liked him. How could someone like him _this_ much? It made Frankie dizzy just thinking about it. But, he supposed he liked Finn this much. Maybe even more. He doubted Finn would appreciate these letters as much as he did though. Finn would hate to receive something as sappy as this.

Suddenly, Frankie was struck with the craziest idea. 

\--

Blake looked up at him and then back down at the letter he had extended to her for a few moments silently. 

“What’s this?” She finally said. 

“A response,” he replied simply. Frankie hoped he was coming off calm and collected because he certainly didn’t feel it. There was such little chance of this stupid plan actually working but Zoë supported it and he trusted her so here he was. 

Blake tentatively took the letter and stuffed it into her sleeves.

“I’ll give this straight to them.” She looked a little sly as she said it but Frankie paid it no mind. He was focusing on her statement. 

All was, unexpectedly, going according to plan.

As Blake turned to walk away, Zoë slipped out from behind an alcove and began to follow behind her loosely. She turned to wink at Frankie and then disappeared around a corner. He really hoped this worked. Frankie thought he would go mad if this person’s identity wasn’t revealed soon. He needed to find out who had been making him so flustered and he needed to prove to himself it wasn’t fucking Finnegan. 

He walked around the lake absent-mindedly. Zoë had told him to wait for her there after she had tailed Blake to the mysterious sender. He was so anxious as he paced around and was exponentially more anxious when Zoë showed up. Her cheeks were flushed from running over and she was very much out of breath. Frankie tried to be patient as she reached him and bent over to catch her breath but he couldn’t help practically shouting at her to tell him if she had found out who was sending him these letters. She looked up at him from her crouched over position, obviously irritated with him for yelling at her. Her disapproving glare continued as she stood straight up and went about fixing her robes at a glacial pace.

“I get it, Zoë and _I’m sorry_ but please just spit it out!”

Her eyes got shiny and excited very quickly like she had dying to tell him but was simply holding it in out of spite. 

“You’ll never believe it, Frankie. I always knew it too! But ‘Oh no, Zoë we’re practically brothers.’ Total bullshit!”

“Zoë,” Frankie said in annoyance, wishing she would just tell him already.

“Oh, Frankie you’re so thick. It’s obviously your precious Finnegan Freesia.”

He stopped breathing at her statement and his cheeks flared.

_Finnegan?_

“But,” Frankie started, “It can’t be-- Finn’s straight as a plank.”

“I saw it with my own eyes. He even blushed at it. Finn never blushes,” she insisted.

Frankie’s world was spinning around him. He was dizzy and his heart was stuttering and--

“You promise it’s him?” He asked Zoë in a very small voice.

She nodded. “Scout’s honour.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “ _Yes_ , you absolute prick. That seal must have _freesia_ flowers imprinted in it. And Finn said nothing like the little shit he is.” 

Frankie stood there for a few moments in shock before he took off running as fast as he could towards the castle. He could hear Zoë yelling after him but he couldn’t care less. He needed to find Blake. His legs carried him as fast as they could, sprinting down every hallway and corridor until he finally found Blake in the Astronomy Tower with her familiar tawny owl. Breathing hard, Frankie called out to her and she turned around to look at him. Her expression was even and cunning. She looked so smug he could hardly stand to look at her.

“If I guess,” he started, panting, “Who the writer is, will you tell me if it’s right?”

“You don’t need to guess, you already know,” she responded, looking like she was holding back a maniacal laugh. 

Frankie’s eyes widened. “You knew?”

“Please. No Hufflepuff could tail a Slytherin without them knowing about it.” 

“But… why would you betray Finn?” He swallowed. It felt weird saying aloud that Finn was his secret admirer.

“I’m not _betraying_ him. I’m helping him. I’ve never seen a boy so lovesick in my life.” Her eyes were the least sad he had ever seen them and now he fully understood why she was a Slytherin. 

She gave him a cunning side-look as if to further convince Frankie of her snake-like qualities. “He’s in the library by the way.”

He blushed at her implications and thanked her quietly before briskly walking to the library. 

Frankie found Finn in a corner reading some book about Fluxweed. He was pulling at one of his black lip piercings unthinkingly as he tended to when he was in thought. It was one of the many things Finn did that drove Frankie absolutely mad. He almost forgot why he had been searching for Finn at all. And now that he thought about it, why did he run to find Finn. What exactly was he going to do? And then Finn swiped his tongue over his bottom lip and Frankie knew wholeheartedly what he was going to do. 

Faintly, he called out Finn’s name and as the dark-haired boy looked up from his book with a surprised gaze, Frankie grabbed his tie and pulled him into a kiss. 

Finn gave a yelp of surprise but melted under Frankie’s insistent lips. The kiss had started out hard and impulsive but as Finn slowly took control from Frankie, it turned slow and slick and, honest to Merlin, _filthy_ . Finn pulled Frankie down into his lap and slid his tongue across Frankie’s lips, urging them to open. Frankie was all too happy to oblige, desperate to get Finn closer. Finn’s tongue slid against Frankie’s like silk slid against marble and Frankie was completely absorbed with thoughts of _Finn, Finn, Finn._ His spicy citrus scent engulfed Frankie and made his knees weak. All the rest of the world seemed to fade out around them. Then, Finn pulled back to plant hot, open-mouthed kisses on Frankie’s neck and Frankie had to bite back a moan since he was pretty sure there were other people in this library. His body shivered with pleasure as Finn continued to suck on his neck and jaw and nibble at his ear-lobe. 

Frankie couldn’t quite manage to hold back a quiet whimper and a gasp of Finn’s name which caused him to pull back and stare up at Frankie. Finn’s sea-green eyes were engulfed by dilated pupils. His lips were red and swollen and his breath was coming out in short bursts. 

After a few moments of them staring at each other and Frankie thanking Merlin that Finn had been reading in a secluded spot, Finn dropped his head and said softly, “Fuck you.” 

It was so heartachingly affectionate that Frankie wanted to kiss him all over again but he refrained and instead settled for kissing Finn on the top of his head. 

“You’re such a sly fuck,” Frankie said into Finn’s hair. “I didn’t even know you knew cursive.” 

“Well now you do,” Finn shot back. 

Frankie pulled him back into a kiss to shut him up.   
  
  
  



End file.
